


Of irises and chrysanthemums

by ADyingFlower



Series: Yandere!Haikyuu Fics [4]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Serial Killers, Alternate Universe - Siblings, Brothers, Codependency, Control Issues, Dysfunctional Family, Emotional Manipulation, Extended Metaphors, Family Secrets, Flashbacks, Gaslighting, Gen, Gen or Pre-Slash, Like seriously SUPER unreliable, Mental Disintegration, Mental Health Issues, Miscarriage, Misgendering, Mother Complex, Mother-Son Relationship, Murder, Non-Chronological, Not in the sexy times way like actual mother issues, Obsessive Behavior, Panic Attacks, Parent-Child Relationship, Past Child Abuse, Past Sexual Abuse, Platonic Relationships, Possessive Behavior, Psychopathology & Sociopathy, Shared Psychotic Disorder, Skeletons In The Closet, Strangulation, Symbolism, Unhealthy Relationships, Unreliable Narrator, Yandere
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-11
Updated: 2016-12-11
Packaged: 2018-09-07 20:22:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8814994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ADyingFlower/pseuds/ADyingFlower
Summary: Life wasn’t that lucky. He was sixteen and raising two kids with crumpled up posters for the volleyball club shoved in the corner of his bag and an overgrown garden that was rotting from the soil up and barely holding it together for the sake of those two little boys. The same boys who cried themselves to sleep every night and still looked to the sky with hopeful eyes, unknowing of the horrors the garden and would remain that way until his dying breath.
or
Don't go in the garden. You might not come back out alive (please don't leave me here all alone I'll die without you)-





	

**Author's Note:**

> Warning, does include some trigger warnings such as childhood sexual abuse, mental illness, mentions of offscreen rape, and murder. This wouldn't be a yandere fic without at least one of them.   
> Once again, I hate myself enough that I write 10K and then vanish off the face of planet. Though this time, I bring platonic iwaoikage.   
> Sequel to his angel wings, torn and bound, is still a work in process ^^  
> Huge, huge, HUGE thanks to Milksalt for betating. Honestly, I'm not sure what I would do without them, this story only got as far as it did thanks to them. Go check out their AMAZING yandere work: Sugar, Incise, Quarantine.

There was a house somewhere tucked away behind other houses that could not be accessed by car easily. There was a house where toys were scattered aimlessly over the front steps and chalk doodles along the cement walkways, where nearby trees slouched under an invisible weight brush against the tiled roof. There was a house with a garden in the back that was wildly overgrown, weeds covering the fences entirely and flowers of all different kinds tangled amongst themselves in a battle of dominance. 

It was in this house, in this garden in which Hajime stood. Iris flowers laid crushed under his old work boots, white chrysanthemums laughed at him from where they were winning the battle only a couple of feet away from him. 

He sighed once, twice, and dug the tip of the shovel into the dried dirt. 

  
  


Everyday, before the sun even rose in the sky, he would drag himself out of his futon and the various limbs that clung to him no matter where he rolled. In summer, he was both overjoyed yet disgusted to part from the sweat covered skin against his, but in winter all he could do was shudder when he left the warm cave of the futon. Today, like all other spring days that flashed past him in a mirage of bloody knees and muddy footprints, was a pleasant mix of the two as he clambered out of the bedroom they all shared and into the kitchen to start the day. 

He had a half hour each morning to prepare the three of them bentos (it was cheaper than mustering up the cash every morning for bought lunch and there was no way in hell that any of them were going to go hungry on his watch) and usually something small for all of them to nibble on to eat for breakfast. Then he would wake his two shining hopes for the day and get into the morning rush. 

Tobio always woke up pretty easily if he didn’t get up on his own, thanks heavens for that, and he usually trudged himself to the bathroom to start brushing his teeth before Tooru woke up and took over the bathroom. For an eleven year old, Tooru sure did love his reflection. 

Tooru was harder to rise, but once he was up he was up. He busied himself with putting on his uniform while Hajime had to help Tobio with his preschool one, brushing both of their hairs while he was at it with a vengeance. And every morning he thanked his parents up in the sky for giving him two brothers and no sisters, because more often than not Tooru would give him a nasty look and snag the brush out of his hand with whines of “Haji-chan is going to tear it all out!” and fix his own hair. Which was better for him, as he got time to maybe brush his own teeth and put his own uniform on. 

After making sure that Tobio didn’t swallow any toothpaste and that Tooru wasn’t still fussing over his hair (I swear ‘Ru, it’s fine, now _ come on _ ), he double checked that all their bags were packed properly and that they had their bentos and breakfasts before heading out hand in hand for the day. First to Tobio’s school, where he dropped him off in the attached playground for him to run around for the next hour before school started. He would give Tobio a peck on the forehead under the brim of his yellow hat before waving him off before walking Tooru to the elementary school down the road. As per usual, Tooru dropped his hand once they got in sight of all his friends and skipped off, but not before Hajime reigned him back in by the collar of his shirt and planted the grossest kiss he could on his forehead despite his flailing arms and screeching complaints. 

Mama did always tell him to be affectionate with his brothers while he could, and he fully intended to honor her words. 

By himself now with two oddly chilled hands, he tucked them quietly into his pockets before trudging the rest of the way to his own high school, which if he was lucky that day and no problems with getting everyone ready, meant he would arrive several minutes after class already started. It made him both amused and saddened how the homeroom teacher didn’t start class until he walked through the door. But luck was like that, with the difference in time their schools began. He wasn’t going to have Tobio wait by himself for over an hour in god knows what kinda weather all because of his stupid class schedule. The teachers could go fuck themselves in his opinion, family always come first, his mother used to say.

Deep breath. In, out. 

Only a year and a half left. He just had to make it through till then. He could have more time to get a better job and hopefully stop draining their savings at an alarmingly fast rate. In all honesty, he would have liked to go to college, would have like meeting other kids interested in science like he was and playing volleyball, but..

Life wasn’t that lucky. He was sixteen and raising two kids with crumpled up posters for the volleyball club shoved in the corner of his bag and an overgrown garden that was rotting from the soil up and barely holding it together for the sake of those two little boys. The same boys who cried themselves to sleep every night and still looked to the sky with hopeful eyes, unknowing of the horrors the garden and would remain that way until his dying breath.

But this was his routine. And his mother always told him that a routine was important and that he should stick to it, no matter what. 

Classes merged by in desperate struggles to finish the homework he couldn’t last night and catching sleep when he could. Lunch was usually spent stuffing rice and leftovers from last night ( _ waste not want not _ , his mama whispered in his ear), but this time a boy with a particular shade of hair and a mole under his eye approached his desk with a gleam in his eyes he didn’t like. 

“Do you have any friends?” He asked Hajime then, tilting his head with a small smile, silver bangs falling in his eyes. 

Not feeling the urge to respond, Hajime flipped open his ridiculously outdated phone instead to see if he had any missed messages or calls about Tooru or Tobio (however unlikely that could be, he checked his phone religiously during breaks). Eventually, like all the others, the silver haired boy would wander off and abandon him for people more willing to try. 

Hajime didn’t have time for friends. 

As he predicted, the boy did leave after several minutes of silence and chewing. Not so predicted, Hajime felt his heart drop a bit in his chest, aching to talk to a peer his age for anything other than school related things. 

( _ Foolish boy _ , his mother hissed softly into his left ear.  _ Only a fool would think that anyone could ever care for you besides your family.) _

After class, he half jogged his way to pick up Tooru and Tobio, practically having to drag Tooru away from his laughing friends whose names nor faces he didn’t bother to memorize. He didn’t care, as long as they didn’t hurt Tooru they could be planning to take over Japan for all that it mattered to him. 

And he desperately hoped they wouldn’t hurt Tooru, because he wasn’t sure he would be strong enough to not hurt them in return.

To his surprise, Tooru easily slipped his hand into his without prompting (once they were out of sight, of course). Hajime's eternally chilled hands seemed to warm up for the briefest moment, and the two of shared a shy smile before walking off to Tobio’s school. 

The bell had just rung when they arrived, and they had to wait among the crowds of parents for Tobio to emerge from the school building. The sheer amount of adults made him nervous, and by the pained look on Tooru’s face he really should ease up the grip on his hand. 

“‘Ji, ‘Ru!” Tobio’s excited voice broke through the din of chatter as two chubby legs came running - or waddling - as fast as he could towards them. Laughing, Hajime crouched down and brought him into a bear hug, smiling giddily at his happy shrieks. And as every afternoon before that, the instant his hold loosened, Tobio turned and flung himself at Tooru’s knees with a loud whoomp. Tooru begrudged him with a pat on the head, face turned purposefully away with a pompous air. 

Ah, the preteen years. For all of Mama’s advice, she never said anything about how to handle those. Since they’ve begun, Hajime’s been mostly winging it, but personally, he thinks he's doing a pretty good job. 

The back of Hajime's neck tingled with someone’s gaze, and his hackles rose as his eyes, to the casual watcher, would only seem to be finding the best way out of the crowd. 

A mother in the crowd was giving them familiar looks, the same kind that led to questions that he didn’t want to answer to guidance counselors visits with  _ we only want to help  _ and teachers giving him pitying looks every day he walked in late with a new shiner.

Unease filled his stomach. 

“They’re my little brothers,” He answered her unspoken question. “Ma--Mom’s busy at work in the afternoon, so I walk them home.” 

She looked startled to be addressed so bluntly, sending him an apologetic smile that he accepted with a small head tilt. 

Her hair was silver.

Ignoring her to the best of his ability, Hajime hiked Tobio up on his shoulders and firmly gripped Tooru’s hand with the other, half trotting along the familiar path to his part time job - and away from the mother with silver hair - at the local grocery store. The owners were pretty laid back, so as long as the two boys didn’t break anything or scare off any customers he was allowed to bring them with him. Feeling like shit but not really having a choice in the matter, every weekday afternoon from three to six-thirty, Hajime delegated Tobio’s care to Tooru. Ever since the first seed was planted in their garden, Hajime had sworn to himself that he would do his damndest to make sure the two of them had the best childhood he could possibly give, and that included not having either one of them to grow up too fast. 

But he was slipping. Tooru was wise beyond his years and hardly ever spoke about his true feelings and Tobio was oddly quiet and stared up at him with eyes that knew way too much for a five year old.

He was slipping, and there was nobody to catch him once the clotted soil under his hand finally gave way. 

After work, Hajime would take the two of them back to the one bedroom house they lived in and prepare dinner for them over half-done homework and rushed caretaking. Tooru mumbled from where he was nearly bent in half over the chabudai at a multiplication problem while Tobio was talking aloud to himself as he played with his train set in the living room. 

“Haji-chan!” Tooru called, calling impatiently out to him. Smiling the smallest bit, Hajime wiped his hands on the dish towel and doubled check the burner to make sure nothing was in danger of going up in smoke before peeking his head out the kitchen archway. “You know you’re my favorite brother, right?” When Hajime only raised an eyebrow, Tooru gave up the ruse and admitted what he really wanted to know. “What’s eight times three?” 

Hajime narrowed his eyes. “Shouldn’t a certain someone figure this out all on his own? Or you know, maybe use his times table?” 

“But Haji-chan!” Tooru whined pathetically, his chin hitting the cool table with a dramatic slump. Which was impressive, because the old thing barely went to his lower stomach when sitting cross legged, nevermind the traditional legs under the knees that their household rarely saw. “My times table is  _ all  _ the way in our room and we had to play  _ soccer  _ today in gym and my feet  _ hurt _ , you wouldn’t want me to have to get up and get it, because then little old me would collapse because of exhaustion and then I would have to be admitted to the hospital and then-”

Hajime raised a hand. “It’s twenty-four.”

Tooru grinned at him. “Love you too, Haji-chan.”

Hajime frowned playfully, flicking bits of suds he hadn’t had the chance to wash off his hands at Tooru’s ‘perfect’ hair just to hear his indignant yelping. “Seriously, when did you start treating me with so much disrespect? I miss the old days when you would follow me around, calling me ‘Oni-chan, On-’” 

“Nope, don’t knowing what you’re talking about!” Tooru yelped, turning purposely away and back to his math problem, though a faint red colored his ears. Snorting, Hajime went back to dinner and frowning at his own math homework, though a tad more complicated than simple algebra. 

After dinner talks of what they did at school and their friends and before tackling the dishes, Hajime forced both of them into the bath together and cackled evilly at their complaints. 

“NO BATH, NO BATH!” Tobio shrieked, struggling to run by him and make his escape while Tooru was evaluating the situation and eyeing the best time to make a break for it. 

“I don’t want to take a bath with this pipsqueak!” Tooru whined while Tobio gasped, affronted. 

“Am not!”

“Am too!” 

“Am not!”

“Am too!”

“Am too!” 

“Am not!” 

Tobio started cackling as Tooru’s mistake slowly dawned on him with the same expression as the day he asked how babies were created and Hajime had to sit the brown haired boy down for a chat, which coincided coincidentally the same day that Tooru decided girls had cooties and proceeded to ignore their existence as if his life depended on it. Hajime grinned roguishly, hauling the both of them back into the bathtub. 

“You just got tricked by a five year old, To.” He couldn’t resist taunting with a smug smirk, and was rewarded with a squawk for his efforts. If he stuck to his routine, then the three of them would remain in this happiness forever, he was sure of it. He just had to follow the routine, and everything would be fine.

The next hour was spent trying to get both of the younger boys to go to bed, and Hajime ended up finally succeeding twenty minutes past their bedtime. He shrugged. Better late than never. 

Getting a good look at the clock, he figured if he worked for another couple hours on his neglected homework, he might have a chance to squeeze in a short shower and get four hours of sleep, give or take. Good enough. 

It was his routine, and he would stick with it.

  
  


The baby was crying. 

On his tippy toes and barely balancing, he furrowed his brow down at the fussing baby in the crib. No matter what songs he hummed or how many times he rocked the crib (gently, had to do it gently), the wails just increased in frequency. Soon enough, the sounds would draw Mama’s attention when she had specifically told him she was busy talking to Daddy about something and to keep the baby occupied. 

She called the baby Tooru, but something about the name didn’t ring right with him, so he tossed around nicknames for his new baby brother around in his head. He was stuck between To and ‘Ru when the baby started crying, so now he was desperately hushing and glancing between the door and his wailing brother in fear of Mama stomping in. Taking a deep breath, Hajime calmed himself down and turned his back fully on the door and eyes directly on the wisps of brown hair and the blue eyes that stared back. He was told that a baby’s eye colors sometimes change as they get older, which was awesome. Imagine, eye colors changing! 

“Oops,” He muttered out loud when he realized that he hasn’t done anything comforting yet. Reaching down with hands that were much too small to support a baby, he carefully picked Tooru up as best he could, remembering at the last minute to support the head. Carrying a baby and standing at the same time was a skill beyond a six year old, so he backpedaled until he hit the rocking chair in the corner and none too gently plopped down. 

To his surprise, being held seemed to be enough for the whimpers to die. Faced with the sudden silence, Hajime wracked his brain for something to fill it with. 

Then an idea surged to mind: his current fascination. 

“You know what’s awesome, ‘Ru?” He whispered, giggling when Tooru blew a raspberry back at him. “Aliens. That’s what. They’re these green creatures that live out in outer space- oh, um outer space is what beyond the sky that's filled with planets just like ours and stars and the sun! Well they’re these cool things that fly around in spaceships and abduct people. I want to be abducted by them, no parents allowed!” He cast a considering look at the staring baby. “But I guess you could come too, that wouldn’t be too bad. Just the two of us against the world. I wanted to see the new alien movie that comes out this weekend, but Daddy’s gonna take me to see...uh...godzilla?”

Tooru blew a small raspberry as he stared up affectionately. Hajime felt something in his heart give, making room for this little boy who would forever be his little treasure. His little light.

“You know.” He said slowly, tasting the words in his mouth as the room seemed to go silent. “I’m your big brother now. You’re my little brother. And that means I’m gonna protect you and keep you safe, forever and ever and ever, got it?”

Tooru gave a toothless smile and he smiled back, the moment gone like it never happened.

  
  


The boy with the friendly smile didn’t leave him alone. In fact, at lunch, he pulled up a chair and just sat there like he owned the damn seat.  

Glaring, Hajime continued to stuff as many cold noodles in his mouth as he could. This morning was hectic, Hajime having slept through the alarm on his phone and ending up running around the house like a chicken with its head cut off. Tooru barely made it to class on time, and by the time Hajime made it to his own school the bell for third period had already rung. So he was exhausted, grumpy, and just generally not in the mood for being pleasant to a guy who wouldn’t just get the hint. 

“Do you have any friends?” The boy asked again, eyes lighted by some strange curiosity in him, for the weird kid who never talked to anyone and came to class late everyday. 

This time, Hajime decided to respond, figuring that the boy was just like Tooru. Namely, stubborn as all hell. “No.”

“I’m Sugawara Koushi, but you can just call me Suga.” A hand stretched out towards him in his peripheral. 

“Don’t care.” He replied back callously, finishing flipping through his emails for anything of note. Occasionally a teacher would shoot out an email asking  _ Tooru’s parent didn’t show up for the parent teacher conference where are you Tobio’s was asked to draw his family in class today but he didn’t draw either one of his parents and got mad when other kids asked about it _ \--

He deleted those kind of emails pretty quickly

Suga opened his mouth to say something else, but the teacher walked in at that precise moment and started calling the class back to order, to Hajime's relief. With an unreadable glance thrown his way, Suga went back to his seat, but not before a note slipped out of his open palm and onto his desk. 

_ Here’s my number! Text me whenever. _

_ xxx-xxx-xxx _

_ -Suga _

Hajime scowled, but slipped the paper into the pocket of his shorts all the same. It would be handy to have someone to call on if he got sick or something to tell him what the missing homework was after all. 

 

Hajime was eleven when they moved into their current home. 

Mama’s green eyes peered down at him from where she was rocking Tobio against her chest. The baby had been fussy all day, whining at the slightest discomfort and only settling down when being held in his mother's arms. 

“My Ayame-chan.” She would whisper fondly, placing a gentle kiss on the ridge of his forehead. Her light pink lipstick left a small kiss mark on Tobio’s pale skin. “My little light.” 

“But Mama,” Hajime had complained then, resting his chin on her knees. “Tobio’s not a girl, and his name isn’t Ayame either.” 

For a brief instant, the smile on her face cracked. Then is smoothed over like a water puddle, the first rain drop of the storm dissolving back into the bay. “Ah, of course. I’m sorry, Hajime, it must have slipped my mind.” 

Back then he had simply nodded his head, content with her explanation. He was content with many things, like why his dad no longer lived with them or why they had downgraded from a three bedroom home in the nice suburbs of the city to a one bedroom cottage half covered by trees in the middle of nowhere. Like why his mother rarely referred to his baby brother by his real name or why she started everyday by emptying out little orange bottle by little orange bottle. 

But he was young and watching the sky with hope still in his eyes, with bloody elbows from falling off his bike, and a scar on his thigh from an adrenaline rushing game of volleyball in the street, so he never questioned anything. 

Things would probably be different if he had.

  
  


“Haji-chan, are you ok?” A quiet voice snapped him out of his stupor. Glancing up, he was surprised to say the least when he saw that it was Tooru standing in the doorway of the dining room, blearily rubbing his eyes. The sole lamp in the room was dim enough that the glow in the dark alien pattern on Tooru’s pjs was faintly illuminating. 

“Yeah.” He whispered back, his voice hoarse. Roughly rubbing his face to get rid of the traces of the few tears that slipped by, he cleared his throat and started again. “Yeah, I’m fine To. What are you doing up?” 

Tooru squeezed the misshapen alien plushie closer to his chest. “You weren’t there, I couldn’t sleep.” 

Hajime cracked a smile, pushing all the bills that were spread open over the table toward the center and resolving to put them away in the morning. Standing up, Tooru flashed him a small genuine smile and latched onto his hand, practically dragging him away to bed. 

  
  


They were at the doctor's waiting to be escorted to another room. Hajime hummed to himself as he kicked his legs back and forth, and Tooru giggled at something the TV in the corner was saying. Today they were going to check up on the baby in his mother’s stomach, and he was excited that both Mama and Daddy brought them to watch. They were talking about names in excited whispers while Mama had a protective hand over her stomach. 

Someone in white called their last name, and Hajime grabbed Tooru’s hand as they were led to a small room with a bed and a screen. Daddy took a seat next to the bed as Mama laid down while the two children were told to sit in two chairs in the back. The next few minutes blurred in mind of words he couldn’t understand and confusing looks traded between Mama and Daddy as the nurse grew more and more desperate.

Tooru’s grip on his hand tightened as tears ran down Mama’s face. 

“ _ What do you mean there’s no heartbeat?! _ ” She screamed, grabbing at the terrified doctor as Daddy held her back with his own tear filled eyes. “ _ What do you mean!? _ ”

That was the last day that Mama was really the same. Ever since, she wandered aimlessly around the house with bare feet, eyes staring at some unseen point as her mouth repeated the same name over and over again. 

“She’s grieving.” Daddy explained to him one night when Mama refused to acknowledge any of them and instead remained curled up on the couch scribbling over the same line on her sketchbook. “Give her time.”

Daddy and Mama argued more often too. Hajime couldn’t resist listening in sometimes, on nights where the screams were so loud that Tooru crawled in bed with him and clutched the same alien plushie Hajime had given him after winning a prize at the carnival last summer. 

“ _ The program’s killing you! Who the hell thought it would be a good idea to have you bond with your dead fetus?! _ ” Daddy yelled. Mama before he was interrupted by a tone of voice that sent chills down his spine. 

“ _ Ayame-chan is my daughter! I’m not just going to pretend she never existed! _ ” 

“ _ It was a miscarriage. They happen. But it’s almost been a year! Tooru and Hajime are growing up without a mother _ \--”

“ _ Don’t you dare insult me on my parenting skills! I have to be there for Ayame-chan, she’ll be lonely without me. You can take care of them for me, can’t you? _ ”

Barely a month later, Daddy left. Barely a month later, Mama was cooing at her stomach and calling it Ayame-chan. 

  
  


It was the weekend, which was a combination of family bonding and errand time. At the moment, they were heading to the store to pick up a couple odds and ends for the week. The road was eerily silent, off a main street. Just a couple more yards and they would have made it into the small town shopping district. Hajime's let his guard down and dropped Tooru’s hand for the briefest moment to pick up Tobio’s dropped scarf, but that moment was long enough. Out of his peripheral, he saw a person running full speed at them, and his wariness made him instinctively lean towards the defenseless Tooru but-

He left Tobio open. 

It could only be a couple of seconds, white noise bouncing inside his cranium and their hand’s slowly slipping apart till only their fingertips were grazing each other and his sight filled with Tobio’s terrified face as he was bodily ripped away from him. He didn’t think, all he could feel was that churning emptiness inside of him as the man tried to grab ahold of Tobio, of innocent Tobio who loved bugging Tooru and playing hide and seek, of one of his only reasons he was still struggling to stay alive, of iris flowers flipped open to the sun. 

Something inside him broke. Letting go of Tobio’s scarf, Hajime growled low and deep in his throat and shoved himself into the man with all his brute strength right to the ground. Tobio tumbled out of the stranger’s arms with a startled scream, only to be caught and quickly dragged back out of the way under his arms by a frantic Tooru, but Hajime noticed none of it. He was taken by his rage, and his hand slammed the man’s head against the cement. And again. And again. 

He didn’t notice the blood, or the odd crunching sound, or how the man’s body went limp underneath him. All he could see was Tobio’s terrified expression as the grip on their hands slowly loosened. All he could feel was the desperate desire to keep his brother with him, to keep Tobio safe and sound from the garden. 

But he did hear this. “‘Ji..’Ji…”Tobio cried out to him, his voice interwoven with the occasional sob. “Please ‘Ji, I’m scared. I’m really really really scared.”

Hajime hesitated, his fist still held in the air as his big brother instincts to protect clashed against the thirsting violence still clawing at his scrambled guts with gaping maws. But he was an older  brother first and foremost, so he straightened up and made to leave the man alone. 

“Haji-chan.” 

He paused. 

Tooru stared at the slumped man, gaze disconnected. His hands never stopped the soothing motion on Tobio’s trembling back, but his stare was brutal in comparison. “Hajime.” 

Oh.

With the hand that wasn’t freckled in blood, Hajime dug through his pockets and pulled out a crumbled yen bill and handed it to Tooru. “Take...Take Tobio and go to the bakery down the street and don’t leave...until...until I come get you, okay?” 

Tooru nodded stoically with something like rage in his eyes when his gaze traveled over the stranger, before he took the money and led Tobio down the street by his hand. The younger boy tried to steal glances over his shoulder, but Tooru’s hand would softly redirect his head forward every time until they turned the corner out of sight, leaving Hajime behind with the unconscious man and a lone scarf on the verge of being blown away resting by his feet.

He’s not quite sure what happened next. All he remembers is Mama sitting on her knees in the wild garden in the backyard that she claimed as her own, tending the sprouts with a half smile on her face. Her mouth, bare of any makeup, parted gently in surprise when she caught sight of him watching her. She beckoned him over with a delicate hand, patting the dirt beside her with a look of bemusement. 

“ _ Now, Hajime _ .” She said when he plopped down. “ _ This is how you pull out weeds _ \--”

“Come on, boys.” He said to his brothers. Both jolted, looking up at him from their conversation at one of the booths. “Let’s go home.”

Tooru flashed him a small grin while Tobio leaped into his arms, and that was that. With a smile Hajime caught his youngest brother and reached out for Tooru’s hand, deciding split-second that they should stay in for the rest of the weekend. 

The tail end of Tobio’s scarf trailed behind him as they exited the bakery.

  
  


The weird kid sat with him at lunch once again. 

“Don’t you have other friends to sit with?” Hajime growled out, annoyed beyond belief with this asshole who just. Wouldn't. Stop. Sitting. With. Him. He didn’t want friends, all he wanted was to pass high school with minimum difficulties to make something of his life and raise his brothers successfully. 

“I do.” Suga conceded. “But I want to be friends with you. I want to hang out with you and see you smile. I want to find out why you look so lost, why you sometimes cry in the bathroom stall after school. I want to help solve the weight you carry on your shoulders and wipe those tears away. I want to stand by you even when you feel like the rest of the world is against you. So, do you have any friends?” 

Hajime blinked back the tears pouring in his eyes as something dawned on him. Maybe it wasn’t that he didn’t want friends, but that he was scared of making friends. Sixteen years old and still terrified of his dead mother's words.  

“....I have one.” He admitted in shaky breaths. “I have one friend.” 

Suga’s smile lit up the whole room and warmed some place deep in his chest that Hajime thought had long frozen over. 

  
  


“Hi!” Someone’s voice broke the bubble surrounding him. Glancing up from the primary schoolwork in front of him, Hajime’s eyes met a pair of warm brown ones. 

“Do you have any friends?”

He shook his head no, and stared intently at the mouth which formed words that were quickly swallowed up by the din of the classroom during break. “My name is--”

 

“You look so tired, ‘Ji.” Tobio’s quiet voice interrupted him from where he was silently watching the garden. He shot a look over his shoulder, and sure enough Tobio was standing there in Hajime's shirt and no pants.

“What are you doing, silly?” Hajime teased in a light voice, sending a pointed glance at his bare legs. Tobio sheepishly smiled, but moved to sit down next to him on the engawa all the same. 

“You weren’t there, so I couldn’t sleep.” Tobio explained in a voice that eerily resembled Tooru’s from a couple weeks ago, content to cuddle up under his arm and doze off right there and then. 

Hajime chuckled the slightest bit. “Sure thing, sleepyhead. “

“We should have pork curry tomorrow for dinner Tou-san…” Tobio murmured in a sleep-ridden voice.”

Hajime froze.

“Tobio.” He said urgently, sitting up straight abruptly and knocking Tobio from his perch on his lap. Tobio blinked repeatedly up at him in confusion, so he took that as acknowledgment. “You know I’m not your father, right?” 

“But why?” Tobio asked, eyes wide in genuine confusion. “You feed me and make me take a bath and do my homework and go to bed before bedtime and get me ready in the morning. Shou-chan said that’s what his Tou-san does, so that makes you my Tou-san.”

A curling kind of desperation filled Hajime's stomach. “No no no, I’m not your Tou-san, okay? Just call me ‘Ji, that works just fine.”

Tobio tilted his head. “Okay…I don’t really get it, but okay ‘Ji.” 

Hajime sighed the tiniest bit, picking up Tobio in one smooth motion and stood up. The five year old tucked his head under Hajime's chin and over his shoulder, content to be carried to bed like a baby. When they got back to their room, Tooru was snoring away and hogging most of the futon so Hajime shoved a foot into his side, rolling him over so the two of them could have some room. It was only when Tobio had fallen back asleep did Hajime laugh to himself, an ugly high-pitched thing that resonated deep within him. 

Oh god. He was sixteen years old and the father of two. 

  
  


His knees hurt from the  _ seiza  _ position, legs straining. Tears gathered in his eyes at the pain, but he refused to let them fall. Mama had added another hour when he first started crying, and at this point his legs were screaming in pain. He couldn’t handle another hour, couldn’t handle another minute from the burning in his thighs. 

Tobio was already crying while Tooru pleaded with Mama, but she refused to be moved while all Hajime wished for in that moment was to be able to.  

“Tooru, take your sister and go to your room.” She commanded him sternly, and while Tooru made a face behind her back at the pronouns he grabbed Tobio’s hand and led him back to the bedroom, sending Hajime once last concerned glance before closing the door. Good. Hajime had drilled into him repeatedly to listen to Mama even when he didn’t want to, never wanting to see Mama’s violence extended to anyone else other than himself. 

“Hajime,” She whispered,  stroking his face gently with manicured nails. “Why did you disobey me?”

“I’m sorry, please I’m so sorr--” His gaze spun to the opposite wall as her hand harshly slapped his face, cheek stinging in a way that experience taught him meant that her nails cut his face. Damn, he would have to make another excuse to the teachers along with how he would be inevitably limping tomorrow. Maybe she’ll let him stay home if he made her happy enough.

“That wasn’t what I asked.” She hissed, her face so close that he could count the freckles Tooru inherited as she held his chin like a vice. “Why did you disobey me?”

A small sob slipped past his lips. “Because...because even though you said it's dangerous I really really wanted a friend.”

“Promise me.” She said in an even tone that spelled of stripping him of his clothes and dumping him out in the slush for the night if he disobeyed. “That you’ll never speak to that boy again.  _ Promise  _ me.”

“I promise Mama.” He sobbed, anything to stop the pain. “I swear.”

She hushed him, gently tugging at his shoulder with an adoring expression. It's a hint that he could move. Gingerly, he pulled his legs out from underneath him with a muffled scream in his sleeve. Mama stared at him without blinking until his legs were no longer under him or in danger of another nerve sending crippling pains. Only then did she kiss his face, lips touching anywhere in range from his eyelids to his lips. 

“I’m only trying to protect you.” She muttered out of the corner of her mouth, kissing away the dried tear tracks on his cheeks and hovering uncertainly on the cut diagonally over his cheekbone. “This is for your own good, do you understand me?” 

He nodded even as he waved goodbye to Kou-kun in his mind.

  
  


“You look tired.” His co-worker, Yaku, commented as they worked in the stockroom together. 

“Yeah well,” Hajime snapped back, hefting up a carton of milk and stockpiling it in the corner. “Being a babysitting teenager with a job isn’t the easiest work in the world.” 

Yaku cast a concerned look past his shoulder, and Hajime knew what he was staring at. He was staring at Tooru and Tobio, both of them sitting on the floor of the open office chattering amongst themselves as they played some card game. Instinctively, Hajime's body shifted to block them from view and those cat-like eyes trailed over him instead. 

“You know,” The college student said absent-mindedly, shuffling through the boxes of pasta and putting it with the rest of its kind. “If I was you I would ask my mom or dad to maybe work less so you could maybe have some time to yourself. It’s not healthy for a teenage boy to spend so much time taking care of his siblings.”

“I know!” He snapped without meaning to, registering Yaku’s eyes widening in alarm. “I know already, goddammit.” 

Hajime made to leave to the stockroom to go and see if Lev needed help with the register up front before the not so timid voice spoke again. 

“You need to talk to somebody, Iwaizumi-kun. You’re only going to self-destruct if you keep at the pace you’ve been going. If you don’t, you’re going to explode sooner or later, and someone’s going to get hurt in the process. I’m saying this for those little boys playing over in the office, but please, talk to someone, anyone. We’re here to help you.” 

Hajime didn’t respond, instead just fleeing the stockroom with a heavy heart and words that begged to be let out. He sealed his lips tighter from the pounding sentence that reverberated around his head. 

_ I killed-- _

But he refused. He would rather die before letting Tobio or Tooru be taken away from him, and that’s what they would do the instant they found out the truth. 

  
  


Mama was smiling unnaturally, dirt under her nails and grass stains all along her dress as they dug together through the dirt of their garden one summer afternoon. Tobio was two and innocent, Tooru was eight and liminal, Hajime was thirteen and inquisitive.

“See, Hajime?” She laughed softly, covering the seed with a handful of soil with a type of care he hasn’t seen her use in years. “All some things need is a bit of love, and before you know it they'll blossom beautifully.”

Her hand draped across his shoulders as she pulled him into her side, every inch of their bodies touching in the disquieting silence of the garden. Her face drew way too close to his, her chipped nails pushed a lock of hair behind his ear. “Everytime I see you, I swear it’s like I’m thrown right back in the past with your father.” She sighed dreamingly then, something unreadable in her eyes and she cast her gaze from his knobby ankles and bandaged knees to his sun freckled skin and the beginnings of puberty setting in around his throat and the voice that cracked every now and again that she never failed to berate him for. “You look just like he did when he was your age, but of course,” Her hand that was around his ear smoothed out across his cheek and rubbed under his green eyes while her other hand rested innocently on the top of his knees. “You have my eyes.”

Mama’s dark, oh so dark lipstick left a sticky trail down his neck as her face dropped down his visage to settle in the curve of his neck with a small bite, her hand tightened around his neck and cut of any air while her other hand slid up up up up up up up up up on his thigh and --

“Be a good son and obey your mother.”

Tobio was two and oblivious, Tooru was eight and iridescent, Hajime was thirteen and couldn’t stop shaking. 

  
  


Suga caught him crying in the bathroom that received the least traffic during third period, sobs muffled in his knees as his whole body trembled under the strain of keeping himself together. 

“What’s wrong?!” Suga shouted, rushing to his side and falling to his knees on the tile beside him, hands fluttering around as if he was struggling on what to do. “Iwaizumi, what’s wrong?” 

Hajime sobbed harder, curling up into the tightest ball his body could manage. He was kneeling on the tatami mat awaiting Mama to walk through the door, holding in his screams so as to not awake the sleeping boys--

“Hajime!” 

His head involuntarily snapped up, staring uncertainly at Suga, who looked just as surprised as he did with the outburst. 

“Oh, I’m sorry…” He trailed off. “You were starting to have a panic attack.” 

A panic attack? No, that wasn’t possible. Hajime was perfectly fine, a little stressed maybe, but he was absolutely fine. 

“What’s wrong, Iwaizumi?” Suga asked him again, hand rubbing his back, and he fought with himself against blurting out the words that had been pressing against his throat for weeks. 

And then he thought. Suga was his friend, right? He wouldn’t leave him if he found out what he did, right? 

He would listen, right?

Hajime swallowed. “My mom..” Suga was silent, only the flicker of surprise in his eyes giving away that he wasn’t expecting him to say anything. 

“My mom is dead.” 

“Oh.” Suga muttered softly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know...Was it recent?”

Hajime half-laughed, half-sobbed. “No. She died over a year ago.” 

Suga was staring at him in bewilderment, so he elaborated even though the thorns in his heart were warning him not to, saying that Suga would betray him if he told him the truth. But they were friends, and friends didn’t betray each other. 

Well, that’s what the TV and books always said. He’d never had friends before, except for when he was a young child.

“My mom is dead because I wanted her to be and my dad left us when we were little because we were too much of a burden.”

Suga’s lips parted in confusion, but he rushed on. “They’re both gone and all I have left is my little brothers and please don’t tell anyone please I’ll die if people find out please--”

“Hold up, wait a minute.” The grey haired boy raised his hands in a calming gesture. “Slow down. What do you mean don’t tell anyone?” 

He licked his lips. Well, no going back now. “I’m raising my little brothers all on my own and sometimes it gets so much.” 

A furrow between grey eyebrows. “Wait, social services doesn’t know about you living on your own? How is that?” 

Hajime giggled, nearly beside himself at the dumb question. “That’s because they don’t know that she’s dead, silly.” He told Suga conspiracy in the voice he used on Tobio when they were playing around and the same one that Tooru had affectionately nicknamed as his baby voice. 

Suga gaped, rocking back on his heels and staring in absolute bewilderment. “How do they not know?” 

Already bored with the conversation, Hajime stared past him at the far wall, eyes catching on the lilies that Mama had planted that one faithful day. 

“Because they can’t know if they can’t find her body, duh.” 

  
  


“You’re getting so old,” Mama commented absently as her hands ran along the rim of her teacup as they waited for Tooru to get home from school and for Tobio’s daycare bus to arrive. That night they were supposed to be going out to dinner to celebrate Hajime’s birthday, but he’d rather they didn’t. 

Hajime hummed back, diligently finishing his math homework as quick and efficient as he could. He got a 95 on his last test, and while a rational part of his brain told him that was fantastic, the other part was insisting that he do better, be better than anyone else. Then maybe he wouldn’t be haunted by nightmares every single day of his life, the shadows chased away forever. 

“It’s really a pain.” She said conversationally to herself, her jagged nails flipping through a dog eared favorite book of hers. “I miss the days where you were shorter than me, always so easy to please me and willing to listen. Now that you’ve gotten taller than me it’s barely even fun anymore.” 

He froze. 

“You’re not touching Tooru.” Hajime said harshly, whipping his head up to send her the nastiest glare he had. 

She stared at him in bemusement over her teacup as she gracefully took a sip. “And who are you to stop me? Be a good son and understand your mother’s needs.” 

Mama got up then, to maybe put the teacup in the sink or maybe just to taunt him by leaving right there and then, but he didn’t care. Something gurgled deep inside his stomach, something unfamiliar and yet not. 

She wouldn’t touch Tooru. 

Quietly, he stood up. Her back was to him as she pattered towards the kitchen, and more of her details sharpened into focus the shorter the distance between the two of them got. 

This close up, he could see that her brown hair was beginning to go grey at the top.

With two surprisingly steady hands, he reached out and wrapped them around her windpipe. 

She struggled at first, of course. Her arms flailed as her lips soundlessly screamed for someone to save him - much like he did the night she stole something of his that he could never get back - and her legs kicked out. But all he did was press harder. He was renowned in his junior school for being the champion of the sports festival years in a row while she was a middle aged woman who had to stop more often than not with any strenuous activity.   

Hajime tilted his head as his gaze remained empty as her struggles slowly started to decrease in accordance to the darker her lips became. To admit it, he should probably feel something about strangling his mother to death, but all he could think about was Tooru, Tooru in his position that one summer day with tears streaming down his face, and the rage surged right back up in his chest. 

He made a promise to protect his little brother, and he would uphold it. 

“You are never going to hurt either of them ever again.” He hissed, his fingers cramping as her eyelids fluttered dangerously, her slack hand curled around one of his wrists. “I’m going to take care of the both of them and they will never have to be scared or sad ever again. And guess what? Nobody is going to care that you’re dead. I practically was Tooru’s parent when he was a toddler and Tobio won’t remember you in a year. And me?  _ Oh _ , I’m going to pretend you never existed. And soon enough, you’ll be an unmourned, unnamed corpse.” 

Slowly, her heartbeat stuttered to a stop underneath him. 

He grinned.

  
  


Suga was acting weird. He was avoiding Hajime's stares and Hajime would sometimes catch him watching guilty out of the corner of his eyes. Naturally, that’s why Hajime decided to take matters into his own hands, and when the other boy left to run to the bathroom during one lunch period, he dug through Suga's school bag and pulled out his phone. 

It was password locked, but after a few tries he couldn’t resist a snicker when he figured it out.

**1-2-3-1**

Honestly, using his crush’s birth date? Totally not suspicious. He only had a few minutes until Suga came back, so he flipped through till he got to the messaging app and took a glance at the most recent conversation. It was to his mother, which was normal enough, but the contents drew his attention. 

**Okaa-san:** The social worker should drop in by tonight. If what you say is true, then she’ll have to call the police and remove all three of them from their homes and send them into foster care.

**Me** : I don’t like this. He’s going to be heartbroken when he’s separated from his brothers.

**Okaa-san:** I know honey, but we have no choice. A teenager cannot live on his own, moreover take care of two children. If his mother died of natural causes, we have nothing to worry about. If not, it’s more than likely he’ll be sent to a children’s psychiatric ward. There’s more than enough concerned notifications by teachers about possible child abuse to prevent jail time, though it’ll be a very, very long time before he can be discharged.

**Me:** Is there any possible way the three of them can stay together? 

**Okaa-san:** I’m sorry Koushi. I know you like your friend Iwaizumi, but you know how unlikely it is that a family would take in three siblings, not even two.

Hajime stopped reading. 

Suga betrayed him. 

Ha. Guess friends aren’t all what they seem. 

He was surprisingly calm, he realized. Maybe because he was somewhat expecting the other shoe to drop for a long time now, maybe it was because he knew the instant he blurted out those words was the same instant he doomed himself to this fate. 

It was the world against him and his little brothers, he always said to himself.

  
  


He buried Mama in the garden she spent every day of her life tending. It only fair after all. The garden took something from him, so he took something from the garden. Now the two of them would be together forever, or well, until her body rots completely, he thought with a hysterical laugh. 

She was tossed right underneath the white lilies, lost forever in that rotten soil. A part of him longed to tear them out, but he figured with some sort of vindictive justice that everything had to remain the same for his revenge to be complete. 

Revenge. That sounded nice. 

Tooru and Tobio arrived an hour after he finished burying her, and they flashed questions at the cuts running up his arms and the dirt under his fingernails, but he deflected them with practiced ease. 

“Let’s go get dinner and celebrate!” He cheered 

Tobio, young and pure, was the one to question it first. “Where’s Mama?” 

His facade broke for the slightest second before he made a swift job of covering it up, but Tooru, too smart for his own good Tooru, latched on to that brief minute and an unreadable look flashed across his eyes for a fraction of a second. 

“What are you talking about?” Hajime asked kindly to Tobio, kneeling down so he could help the little boy tie his shoes. 

Tobio frowned. “I’m talking about Mama, where--”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Hajime interrupted the three year old sharply. Tobio gasped at him like a drowning fish, but Hajime ignored it to help put on Tooru’s windbreaker. Autumn was setting in soon, and it would be a shame if Tooru caught a chill just because of a little wind. 

Hajime was perfectly capable of taking care of them. They didn’t need anyone other than him.

“Mama’s never even lived here. She left a long time ago, remember?” He told the two of them with complete conviction. Of course, how could he be wrong? She abandoned them right after Tobio was born, Tooru barely remembered her except in vague outlines and Hajime could only recall vague pieces of advice from her. 

Tobio face scrunched up adorably in confusion. “But--” 

“No buts.” Hajime said firmly but not unkindly. “Now let's go get some dinner, why don’t we? I’m really craving some pork curry.” Tobio’s face lit up and he yelled something undistinguable before darting for the front door. Hajime was just about to join him when he felt a hand slip into his, and to his surprise, Tooru was staring up at him with murky eyes just like the muddy garden in the backyard during the springtime, when the mud seemed to suck right into your rain boots and tried to drag you down under the rotting soil with the rest of the corpses hiding under the ground. 

“Thank you.” Tooru said simply with a grateful tone that belied how many layers and secrets were hidden in his skinny frame. “ _ Thank you _ .”

Even if he didn’t understand why Tooru was thanking him, Hajime patted his head and smiled all the same. Afterall, Tooru was his little brother, and Hajime would do  _ anything  _ to make his little brothers happy. 

  
  


Tobio hummed a semi-familiar tune, one of those theme songs of some of the old cartoons you could always recognize on sight but not always by any other sense. His feet kicked a similar beat against the plastic, creating small, almost clipping sounds, every time his tiny feet hit the casing of his entire life packed in once bag. His gaze was focused on the people walking by, looking for anything of notice so he could excitably tug on Hajime’s shirt and point at them, regardless of who was watching.

Tooru, on the other hand, was intently focused on the game controller in his hands. It was an early birthday present from Hajime, one that he figured would help him out numerously with keeping the child entertained. Keeping Tobio from a meltdown was enough of hassle, but keeping  _ two  _ energetic boys entertained with what he had on hand for over seven hours would probably actually kill him.

“Haji-chan,” Tooru was currently complaining. “Do I  _ have  _ to leave Makki and Mattsun? I’m gonna miss them so much, and I don’t even have a phone so we can send message over LINE, but instead we have to send emails like we’re in the dark ages!” 

Hajime was currently focused on looking attentive to Tooru’s whines - even if this was the sixth time in the past hour he'd heard the same variation of the same spiel - and kept his eyes focused on the board above him. So far, no delays, but you could never be certain. Best to be certain and attentive, as evidenced by the two times Hajime had stuffed everyone in a bathroom stall when he saw the distant blue of a police uniform. The ticket officiator hadn’t given them any weird looks, probably just assuming that the boys were going on a daytrip to the city for a bit of being a tourist. All the better for him really, but he didn’t want to take the chance either when it came to the officers of the law.

Considering he probably murdered someone several hours ago. He stifled a laugh. After reading Suga’s texts, he wasn’t filled with alarm or panic, no. Instead, a strange calm had filled him. 

It was a pipe dream to think about living in the half in between state for even longer than he already had. He was playing someone else’s life while trying to balance the one he had now. 

Silly him. Foolish him. 

So he did the only logical thing there was to do. When he got both boys home, he instructed them to pack everything that mattered to them and fit it into two suitcases. Of course, he needed to help when it was obvious that Tobio was just stuffing toys in and no clothes while Tooru was adding every clothing article he owned and nothing else. The whole process took a bit over an hour, and both boys were ready to go and he was finishing up on his own suitcase by the time the social worker came. 

She was in the way, asking him all these questions he didn’t know the answer to or didn’t want to answer.  _ Where’s your mother? Where’s your father? Who’s been taking care of you? Who has been paying the bills? Where are your brothers? How old are they? What schools do they go to? Do you have any other relatives? Do you have a job?  _

Just on and on and on and the constant questions made his skin itch. She didn’t want to know, so why did she ask? Money? Her work required her to? Why did  _ they _ need to know? It was none of their business. 

Whatever. She was just someone else standing between his brothers' happiness, and he had a promise to keep. 

Stairs are so very easy to fall down, of course. 

When he stepped out into the garden, where he had told the boys to keep their heads down before the woman even arrived, his face was shoved into white flowers. Coughing up the stray petal that slipped down his throat, he leaned back and admired Tobio’s smiling face, who was holding a bouquet of handpicked flowers in his hand. White lilies, to be exact. 

“For you, ‘Ji!” He crowed, before shoving them in Hajime's hands and bounding off to bother the currently hiding Tooru. Hajime gazed at the flowers he lost his innocence on, and then thought about Tobio’s grinning face. He may have made that promise to Tooru, but he meant it even more for Tobio who could only count to ten and was learning how to write his name. Every part of him, the dark maws that crept up when everyone else in the house was asleep, begged him to drop them and grind them under his heel as retribution. But that so small part of him right near his heart that felt elation at seeing Tooru’s smiling face or the way Tobio would proudly declare his love everytime he saw him murmured for him to keep them. So he did, gently filling a vase with water and dropping the flowers in. It would be too much of a pain to carry them on the journey ahead, but in a sense it was a sort of mercy letting them survive like this. 

So that’s how they were now, waiting among the crowds of people for their train to arrive. The tickets in his hands trembled, but he snuffed the urge as soon as it emerged. All the savings he pulled out of his mother's bank a year ago came in handy, allowing him to buy them their own compartment for the ride and even enough for a couple months of rent in Tokyo. It was a big city, so he was sure that some store or minimum wage job would be hiring. Maybe he would go into construction, it paid fairly well and required no education on his part. Getting Tooru and Tobio into school would be difficult, so maybe he should just homeschool them until he find a way to falsify records or something. It was safe at home, more so than at some random school, so maybe he would just keep them there. He would be a good parent, he was sure of it. 

“ **Five o’clock train to Tokyo is now arriving at the station. All passengers must** \--” He tuned out after hearing the first line and turned to face his younger brothers. 

“You ready to go?” Hajime asked cheerfully, watching as Tooru carefully placed the console back in his carry-on bag while Tobio hopped off from sitting on his too-tall suitcase. 

He would make them happy, no matter how many lives it cost or the damage he caused, because those two little boys who cried themselves to sleep every night and watched the sky with still hopeful eyes were his reason to live, and no one would get in the way of it, absolutely no one. 

Hajime would kill them first.

**Author's Note:**

> The code on Suga's phone is Daichi's birthday.   
> I hope some people caught on to the symbolism involving Tooru's role in this whole mess. Cookie to the first person who can tell me the significance of the name Ayame.


End file.
